


Ignition

by klaviergavout



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, Gen, also he deserves way more fics like. he has less than half of the amount of fics michael has, he deserves better than a shitty squip that forces him to stay in the closet., i love michael mell with all my heart but rich goranski Needs Some Ao3 Content, rant over sorry whoops, someone please help this boy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-18
Updated: 2017-05-18
Packaged: 2018-11-02 07:59:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10940301
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/klaviergavout/pseuds/klaviergavout
Summary: Jeremy's squip tells him that Rich's squip was disabled due to the alcohol he drunk, and that's part of the reason why he stared the fire. However, Rich also barely had anything to drink that night.Perhaps what Jeremy's squip was hiding from him was a truth much darker than anyone could have known.





	Ignition

Rich had been looking forward to Jake Dillinger's Halloween party for _months._ Sure, he went every year, but this was the one night where he _really_ got to show off. The one night he knew he'd be the centre of attention and everyone would love it, everyone would love _him_. Thanks to his popularity, his ever-growing wealth of friends and the whole database of advice he could gain from the supercomputer in his head, he was guaranteed an all-access pass to highschool glory every October the 31st.

This year he was going to go all out- the youth of New Jersey were going to meet the terrifying Jason Vorhees. His brother had the mask, so that was easy enough. He could just steal it. One quick rummage through the bread bin later and he was ready to terrify the dudes and hit up all the ladies. Or maybe the other way ar--

_ **No!** _

Flinching at the sudden angry shock that coarsed through his veins, he buried that thought to the back of his mind and left the house.

* * *

The first hour went as it usually did. Jake greeted him at the door, giving him a hearty slap on the back before leading him inside. Punch was downed, girls were chatted up, and Rich was sure there had been a cigarette or two passed around. Unlike some people, though, Rich didn't need five pints to show that he was awesome, so he made his way towards the makeshift dance floor before Jenna could offer him another jelly shot.

_ **Rich, I need you to do something for me.** _

_I'm listening,_ replied Rich almost instantly, beginning to halfheartedly dance in an attempt to seem occupied. He'd show off his real moves later.

_**You see the punch over there?** _

Rich swerved his head around towards the snack table as if on cue. Some kid in a monster suit was the only one standing nearby, shovelling Doritos nervously into his mouth while checking his phone. _What a loser,_ Rich thought, as he scanned the table for the punch bowl.

_Yeah, I see it. The purple one?_

** _I want you to go home--_ **

"WHAT?!"

It was as if the music had stopped completely. Everyone dancing came to a violent halt and all eyes turned on him. He grinned nervously, busting out some strange dance move he swore he'd never do again, and it was only when everyone had resumed their usual routines that he replied to his squip- in his head, this time.

_I mean. What?_

_**We've spoken about voice control, Rich. You don't have many slip-up chances at a party this big.** _

Rich swallowed, currently doing the macarena as if on autopilot.

_**Now listen to me. I want you to go home- tell Jake you forgot to bring drinks, we'll sort it out with him later- and grab the WKD from the cupboard. After that, get your squips. Bring them here.** _

Rich stopped dancing again. This was weird. He only dealt at school, and even then, it was on the basis that his squip told him who the buyer was beforehand. That way, he could sell to the people who needed it most.

Still, it wasn't good to leave the squip hanging. He rubbed his arm on instinct.

_What, are we selling tonight?_

_**Not exactly,**_ said the squip, artificial laugh deep and resounding. _**That's where the punch comes in.**_

* * *

Usually, he'd have no problem carrying tasks out for the squip. He had done it before; he had bought the other squips to sell at school, introduced himself to the other local dealers, stolen copious amounts of vodka from his dad, et cetera, et cetera- but tonight was different. Maybe it was the sheer amount of people that were there, maybe it was the fact that he'd never seen Jeremy this confident before, maybe it was the fact that Jake was there and having fun and Jake was there and Jake and _Jake_ and --

The shock was harsher this time, and Rich was beginning to feel his own anger start up.

_I don't want to do it._

A pause. _**Excuse me?**_

 _I said, I don't want to do it,_ replied Rich in the most pissed-off voice he could muster inside of his head, making his way towards the edge of the dancefloor. _You think I'm just gonna give away all my stash for free? No chance._

 _ **Rich,**_ said the squip threateningly. _**Stop it.**_

_Besides, why do you even want everyone squipped anyways? You're supposed to--_

He stopped mid-way across the room.

He shook his head.

"No, that's-- that's messed up. Messed up," Rich muttered to himself, aloud, and ran out of the room.

* * *

He should've seen it coming, really. No _wonder_ the squip had got him to start dealing the grey oblong pills that an average teenager just couldn't get anywhere else, no _wonder_ it had told him to get Jeremy to buy one, no _wonder_ he had used him. Of course it wanted to spread, become a hivemind of perfect people. Of course it had never truly cared about the status of someone like him.

Rich threw his Jason mask on the floor, sweat dripping down from his forehead. It took him several minutes of pacing around helplessly to realise that he was, in fact, pacing around helplessly. He looked about him and people were laughing again, _at_ him now. He thought he could make out Jenna Rolan's face in a crowd of girls that were giving him the eye. "Oh my _god_ ," she said to them, though her voice sounded no more than a whisper over the deafening beat of the music, "looks like _someone_ needs to hold the vodka."

_**I can make things worse for you, Rich. Do you know that? I can bring your whole reputation to the ground.** _

He ran out of the living room, up the stairs, needing to get as far away from their condescending smiles as possible.  
Distant shouting filled one of the rooms down the hallway. An argument. It sounded like Jake and Chloe. He caught a few words- 'Jeremy', 'sex', 'jealous', 'Brooke'.

_**All I need is for you to do one thing for me, Rich. Please. Just this one thing.** _

The landing felt blisteringly hot now and Rich grabbed onto the banister for dear life, thinking about where he could go to escape everything, everyone. He saw a door across from him that his bemused mind seemed to recognise.  _The bathroom._ He banged on the door with shaky fists and waited.

"I'll be out soon!" came a cry from inside. Rich could hear a faint sniffling.

_**Pitiful.** _

"Shutdown," mumbled Rich under his breath.

_**You can't shut me down any more.** _

"Try me."

He had to stop himself from falling down the stairs when the next shock hit him.

* * *

"You got any Mountain Dew Red?"

Rich really didn't want to interfere in whatever Jeremy and Christine were getting up to on the couch, but he had reached his limit. He needed the squip out, and he needed it out _now_. It would kill him. It would hurt him and hurt him until he caved in and did what it asked. He wasn't going to cave in. He wasn't.

Jeremy Heere ignored him. Flat-out. Rich felt the beginnings of tears prick at his eyes.

"It looks like normal Mountain Dew? But red?"

_**Give it up, Rich. They don't care about you. But I can make them care about you, Rich. I can make them care.** _

His breath came in heavy, upset heaves.

_I don't want this._

_**You can't lie to me. We can have what we had a year ago, Rich, if you would only--** _

"SERIOUSLY! WHERE THE FUCK CAN I GET SOME MOUNTAIN DEW RED?"

He was too busy trying not to keel over from the darting sensations of pain racking through his body to notice the tears rolling down his cheeks.

_**I told you I could make things worse.** _

Their stares seemed to bore right through him until they started laughing, and Rich realised in his own despair that the room was far too dark and hazy for them to realise the expression on his face.

"Popular people are meeeeeeeesssssssed uuuuup."

_**I'd get out of here while you still can.** _

Out of pure spite Rich stayed put, but he backed away a few steps first.

_**Rich. Stop.** _

He watched Jeremy and Christine make several strange noises before beginning a conversation. From what he could see through the strobe lights, glowsticks and otherwise darkness, Jeremy had asked Christine something, to which she had left the couch.

"Got any Mountain Dew Red?" Rich stepped forward without missing a beat. Maybe Christine had just been distracting him. Maybe Jeremy had just been laughing at him because she had.

_**Stop lying to yourself.** _

"Okay, this whole no-drinking-while-squipping thing? Would it have killed you to give me a warning?"

And that did it. Something in Jeremy's words seemed to rouse him from whatever anxious stupor he was in. Perhaps it was the sheer fact that _Jeremy_ had said them. He scoffed, shaking his head as he backed away more and more from the couch, a dreadful feeling rising inside of him.

"A _warning?"_

"Rich, what's--"

But before Jeremy could continue, Rich had left the room.

* * *

Rummaging through Jake's kitchen proved a lot easier than his own, since most of the alcohol was already strewn about the counter tops, in and amongst several untouched bowls of peanuts and pretzels. With glassy eyes he found one bottle that looked to be three-quarters full. Bacardi 151. _Good,_ he thought. _This'll work._

The squip said something, but Rich ignored it.

He grabbed a small rag from the sink and stuck it inside the neck of the bottle, taking out a small cigarette lighter from his pocket. As he strode back towards the living room he saw Jeremy rush to the front door. _Maybe he knows what I'm doing,_ thought Rich, and he smiled bitterly. _Maybe his **squip** told him._

He entered the room, lit the rag and let it fall.

**Author's Note:**

> If you've read the BMC script/listened to the audio bootleg you'll notice I took a few liberties with some of the lines I took, changing them up a bit. Sorry about not being extremely accurate. 
> 
> I really enjoyed writing this though! I'll definitely get to writing things you guys enjoy more, like all the wonderful ships in this musical, but I feel like Rich deserved these 1652 words. Even if they didn't treat him very nicely.
> 
> Thanks for giving this a read!


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